


I am what you made me

by BelleWrites (sunleyemrys)



Series: Ellana and Solas [7]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Post-Trespasser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 15:18:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13550058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunleyemrys/pseuds/BelleWrites
Summary: Yay writing prompt! Um... Listening to the Dark Solas and Lost Elf themes on repeat while writing is probably not the best idea... But damn, oh well.





	I am what you made me

He had allowed himself to be captured. Ellana knew this even as she made her way to the holding cell. The Dread Wolf, the boogeyman of her People, Fen’Harel, he was all of those things, but he would always be Solas to her. The man who had taken everything from her, the man, no God, she still loved despite it all.

Three years since he had taken her arm carrying his Mark. Three years she had been chasing him, and he had always been a step ahead. She wondered if he had changed, it was a foolish thought, one better suited to a girl, someone innocent. Not her, not anymore. She had to steel herself to not fall for his lies, his half-truths, for his soft voice. The lilting accent that use to whisper sweetness in her ear.

No. Ellana stopped and tightened her remaining hand into a fist. Do not allow yourself such thoughts.

Though she no longer travelled among the Dalish, she was still a proud Elf, and would compose herself as such. Armor was clean and polished, her hair had not a strand out of place. After the loss of her arm, Ellana had switched to using a spelled sword instead of a staff for casting spells, and that hung against her back, wisps of magic curling around it.

The guard stood outside the locked door. “He has made no noise since capture. Not even to ask for drink or a bucket.” Ellana nodded, “And there have been no changes to the wards in or around Skyhold.”

“Thank you. Dismissed.” Her voice was firm, even if her heart was trying to beat itself out of her chest.

The guard started, “But Mistress, what if he…”

She waved her hand, quieting his doubts. “He would leave if he wanted to. He needs something. I have nothing to fear from him, but you do.”

She watched the guard slowly leave his post, knowing that a small squad would be hovering nearby in a few minutes, just in case. Her hand hovered over the lock, shaking slightly.

The door swung open with a creak, and there he sat, cross legged on the floor, stripped of the trappings of a God. His long, artist fingers draped causally over his knees, the sleeves pushed up his forearms that were covered in freckles, not unlike her own skin. His chin rested against his chest, eyes closed as if in sleep, but she knew he was aware of everything.

“A wolf upon my doorstep after so many years,” Ellana forced her voice to not shake. Willed it to be strong, fierce, full of pride. “But is it a trick? What does the Dread Wolf want after all this time I wonder.” She pulled the door closed and activated the locking rune. Now only Dorian’s blood could open the door from the outside.

His chest rose as he inhaled to speak. “I am not here to trick you. It was never my intent to deceive you nor anyone for that matter.” His voice was soft, deep with regret. “I seek only to fix a mistake.”

She scoffed, resting against the wall. “Which one. You have made so many in your long life. Must be difficult to recall them all.”

He winced as if she had struck him, the bitterness in her voice wounding him. “The only mistake that matters.” His soft grey eyes meet hers, “leaving you.”

Ellana’s jaw fell. “Five years.” She pushed away from the wall and began to pace the room, stalking him slightly even though he refused to move. “Five years since you ripped my heart out. The first time.” She spat the words at him. “And three years since you told me your truth and disfigured me.” His eyes focused on the bare skin below her shoulder. Ellana refused to cover it, or get a prosthetic, she had tattooed the scars of the Mark though, a permanent reminder of her pain. They were done in green, Fen’Harel green, a mockery of vallaslin.

“I am here now, Vhenan.” His hands flexed, it was driving him mad that he couldn’t hold her in his arms. Couldn’t take the twisted mask of rage and pain from her beautiful face.

She laughed low, steps slowing to face him. “And how long before you tire of me? Of my aging? How long until I bore you?” Ellana nudged the chair over, the only piece of furniture in the cell, and sat in it across from him.

“You have never bored me. I would give a thousand lifetimes to grow old at your side.” He shuffled forward, almost taking her hand in his, but stopped short when she made a fist. “Please, Vhenan.”

He took stock of how she had changed since he had truly seen her last. She was leaner, more muscled, hair that she had once allowed to flow freely was tied back in a tight but elaborate braid. Ellana had taken to tattooing her skin, but not her face, no, that was bare. But her eyes told the whole story, she was hurting, had been this whole time. She cared deeply for him, and he had shattered the one person who might be able to forgive his sins.

“You left though. Twice. We nearly had everything together.” Her voice was a whisper, so soft it was almost a thought, hand unconsciously moving toward her stomach. Barely a twitch. “But its too late for that. For everything.”

His eyes felt hot, had she been? At some point? Had they almost been that lucky? “Ellana. Was there a baby?”

Her fingers tangled into the fabric of her armor as her voice finally broke. “There might have been, but it was lost. Dorian says it was likely due to fighting Corypheusand pulling that much Rift energy. I didn’t know until afterward.”

“You were alone when it happened?” He fell forward, his forehead on her knees, tears falling freely. “I am so sorry. Another of my many sins. You should not have been alone to go through that.”

She pushed him away with a snarl and stood. “No! You don’t get to apologize! You weren’t there because you choose to leave! Your precious guilt was more important than me! Me! Your Vhenan!” She spun and kicked the chair with a scream. “Even now you call me that, but are you even capable of love? Five years.” She fell against the wall and slid to the floor.

“Five years I have waited for you to return. To make me feel anything but empty and broken. And now I am filled with rage. Blinding rage that I cannot direct at you.” She gave a sour chuckle. “Because despite it all, and no matter how hard I have tried. I still love you.”

He rested a tentative hand on her ankle, coming no closer than that. “I never truly loved before you. Not like this. You changed everything for me.” Ellana snorted. “It is true. You are unlike any being I have ever met. Strong-willed.” He leaned down and kissed her ankle. “Fiercely loyal.” A kiss on her knee. “A wicked sense of humor, despite the Iron Bull’s influence.” He got a half smile as he laid a delicate kiss to her hand. “Intelligent with a thirst for knowledge that rivalled even the greatest scholars of Arlathan.” He moved closer still, kissing up her arm slowly. “A beauty unparalleled in any age.” He kissed her brow, his heart pounding. “And such a capacity for love and forgiveness that shames me. Though I must ask for it, because your forgiveness is all I want in this, or any world.”

His lips hovered over hers, waiting. Ellana’s hand closed over his throat. “Listen to me Dread Wolf. I am not a startled halla for you to chase and conquer. I refuse to be your pawn. You want my forgiveness? My love?” She felt him nod around her grip. “I am more than what you tried to turn me into.”

She crushed her lips against his, releasing his throat. “Do not make me regret this Solas. For I will kill you.”


End file.
